


Awaiting News

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [24]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:11:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4222968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the day they've had, Renji is more than read to sleep.  Of course, that's when Byakuya decides to drop the bomb of his impending arrest for fraternization on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awaiting News

The servants had changed the bed sheets. 

Renji never quite knew how to feel about that. It was highly personal and a little gross, but he supposed they changed the chamber pots, too. Sliding between fresh, crisp blankets, Renji had to be grateful for their work because he wouldn’t have been able to do it. He was bone tired, ready to collapse after all the craziness of this evening: the proposal, the fight, the Ninth, the awesome make-up sex…. Yeah, he was going to be out the second his head hit the pillow.

“In the morning, the Head Captain will likely issue a warrant for my arrest,” Byakuya said.

Bolting up instantly, Renji sputtered, “What?”

“Or perhaps he’ll just send guards to deliver the news and escort me directly,” Byakuya mused calmly, as if they were discussing tomorrow’s duty roster at the Division. He sat with his back against the headboard. Though his hair was still wet and unbound, he’d put on a light blue yukata with a pale yellow flower pattern. “We should be ready, regardless. I have no idea how long I will serve for fraternization.”

“Whoa, whoa! Slow down,” Renji said, scrubbing the hair from his face. “I was only in the clink for a couple of hours. How did you stand tribunal already?”

“I made a deal. Captain Kyōraku will negotiate it for me,” Byakuya explained. He glanced briefly into Renji’s face, before turning back to stare at where his hands were folded in his lap on top of the blankets. “It makes sense, Renji. The Division—perhaps the whole of the Seireitei after the ryoka invasion—expects me to follow the law. But, I am not ashamed of our relationship, nor do I intend to change it, nor to transfer you. Therefore, I’ve agreed that the mistake was the public confession and will pay for that crime. In exchange, nothing more will be asked of us.”

Renji’s mouth worked for several long minutes, only managing to produce incoherent squeaks and grunts. Then, he slumped back against the headboard with a loud thump. 

It was clever. Renji could see Kyōraku’s hand in it, for sure. 

But prison? Did Byakuya know what he was getting himself into? Had he ever spent a minute behind bars? What the fuck, eating gruel and fighting off…? No, no way would they send him somewhere hard, though. He was True First. People like that went to resort prisons or something, didn’t they? “Is this going to be house arrest?”

“I don’t know,” Byakuya said.

A bit of stray hair found its way into Renji’s mouth and he chewed on it as he thought. The patrol cried the hour outside. It was late; he was going to have to report to duty in a matter of hours. “I kind of wished you’d told me this earlier. We’ve got a lot to figure out.”

“The Division will be simple. I plan to appoint you interim captain,” Byakuya said. Renji opened his mouth, but Byakuya lifted a hand. “You have bankai. Some day, you may wish to stand for the captaincy test. Having led the division, however briefly, will help sway those who might think you rash and inexperienced. Besides, you’re more than capable. You’re the only one I trust for the position. It will be no other or I will not accept the terms of the sentence.”

Byakuya had clearly thought all this through at some point, and it was just as clear he’d take no argument from anyone, not even Renji. So, Renji kept his mouth shut and didn’t mention the fact that he had no intention of ever taking the captaincy test. He hadn’t lost his ambitions to get stronger, but, with the memories of Aizen still haunting him, Renji realized there was only so far he wanted to go in the Gotei hierarchy. 

A captain’s haori was full-in, way deeper than Renji wanted to go at the moment. 

After everything that happened with Rukia, could he ever truly swear to uphold any decision handed down from Central 46? Even though it’d been revealed that most of that shit was down to Aizen, Renji still didn’t trust them. Look how they’d been with Isoroku. That still stung. Besides, everything Aizen had had him doing in the Rukongai—that was all above board, totally legal. And, frankly, fuck that.

When Renji didn’t protest, Byakuya nodded. “I see you concur. Good. The trickier business is my status as clan head once I’m imprisoned.”

Renji hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah? I kind of figured there was no way you were ever not clan head, unless you were dead.”

“While that’s true,” Byakuya’s fingers smoothed the folds of the blanket while he spoke. “My authority to make familial decisions will be suspended for the duration of my sentence. This would be merely bothersome, were it not for the heir. As I’ve named one, my authority should transfer to him automatically. But, he’s not yet gone through the investiture ceremony. An ambitious family member could appoint themselves his regent and, effectively, usurp my power.”

An ambitious family member? Who…? Oh. “Aunt Masama.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, shit,” Renji breathed, letting his head fall back against the wall. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. He could feel his face crumpling into a deep frown at the thought of Auntie Masama moving back into the estate full-time. “How much damage could she do?”

“It’s uncertain,” Byakuya said. “Truthfully, my aunt has always outmaneuvered me politically. As the family’s matchmaker, she is owed many favors—not only inside my clan, but also outside of it, into nearly every family of note in the Seireitei. I, on the other hand, am not well liked. My family finds me troublesome—willful and fickle.”

“Willful, huh?” Renji smiled.

Byakuya didn’t even try to smile. Instead his lips stayed pressed into a thin line. “Yes, there is a large contingent who have never forgiven me for breaking my engagement to marry a commoner. Moreover, I don’t play their games, nor do I attend their functions or parties, nor curry their favors in any way. I have zero allies among my kin.”

“You’ll always have Rukia,” Renji pointed out.

“I… oh.” Byakuya blinked. “Of course. Rukia is my sister and a Kuchiki. A far closer relative I couldn’t hope to find. We will appoint her regent.” Byakuya pulled himself out of bed. “I’ll draft the letter of intention now.”

Renji reached for Byakuya to pull him back to bed, to tell him to try to get some sleep, but let his arm drop. Byakuya needed to do this. This wasn’t something he could get someone else to do for him, either. So, Renji flipped the covers off and searched for his shitagi on the floor. “Right,” he said, shrugging it over his shoulders. “I’ll get you some tea and meet you in the office.”

#

It was still so early in the morning that the kitchen was nearly empty. A fishmonger Renji didn’t know was busy prepping the breakfast mackerel. He was a stocky guy with a buzz cut and big, meaty arms, but he scaled the katsuo bushi with swift, professional strokes. Renji gave the fishmonger a little nod and hunted around for the tea things. He’d just set the kettle on the hook to boil when Miki came bustling in.

“Renji, I thought that was you stomping around on the stairs. Dear gods, you have to tell us what’s happening!” she said, breathless from her run down the stairs. She was still in a sleeping gown and her bright orange curls puffed out around her head in sleep-matted corkscrews. “And, oh my heavens, is that the afternoon set? What do you think you’re doing??”

Renji glanced at the tea things he’d found guiltily. “Uh… making tea?”

“No,” she said firmly. “You’re sitting down.” When Renji reached to put the bowls back where he found them, she slapped his hands. “Don’t. Touch. Anything.” She pointed to the stool. “Sit. And tell me everything. The evening staff was buzzing about an arrest! They said you’d tried to kill his lordship and the captain of the Ninth had to drag you away.”

“What? Ah, gods,” Renji shook his head as he settled onto the stool near the hearth. “The rumor mill around this place…. Sheesh. Okay, listen: I didn’t try to kill anybody, though the Ninth did take me down for insubordination. I’d probably still be in the clink, but Byakuya decided to tell everyone it was a lover’s spat.” 

“No!” Miki breathed as she swapped the tea set for one that looked damn near identical to Renji. “He didn’t!”

“He did,” Renji said. He watched Miki fuss about the plates and the tray, wondering at the wisdom of preparing everyone for the possibility of Byakuya’s arrest. Should he tell them? Everyone here was at the whim of the master of the estate. Renji figured that if he were a servant here, he’d be damn well panicked to see Byakuya hauled away. Maybe it was time to use the rumor mill to their advantage for once. So, he took a breath and said, “But Byakuya has a plan. It’s a little crazy, but I think it’s smart. He’s going to take the rap for fraternization on the contingency that once he does his time, that’s it. They can’t come after us any more.”

Miki had been picking up the tray to hand it to Renji, but she set it down again with a gasping breath. Even the fishmonger turned to look at Renji. “Are you saying his lordship is going… to prison?”

“Maybe…?” Renji said, standing up to retrieve the tray from her. She looked too shocked to hand it over. “Could be house arrest. I don’t know what the Head Captain is going to demand. But, you need to trust Byakuya, Miki. Everybody here needs to trust that he’s thought this through, thought about his responsibilities.”

“Bright Buddha,” she squeaked, sitting down hard on a stool. 

Renji filled the teapot from the kettle and said, “Hey, Byakuya is upstairs, right now, figuring out the situation with the heir and who is going to be in charge if he ends up going away. No way is he going to let anything happen to his interests, if you know what I mean.”

“First we lose Eishirō and now this?”

Renji put a gentle hand on Miki’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t know that, Renji,” she said, looking up at him with tears forming in her eyes. “What if that horrible…” She stopped herself from saying something slanderous about a Kuchiki with a hand over her mouth. Her eyes told Renji they were thinking about the same person: Masama. “What I mean is, a new master could fire us all.”

Squeezing her shoulder, Renji said, “You know how this works way better than I do, but doesn’t the heir get any say? Anyway, Byakuya is giving Rukia the regency--or whatever it’s called. Rukia ain’t going to fire nobody.”

“Oh?” Miki’s hands finally dropped from her face. “Oh! Lady Rukia would be wonderful!”

“See?” He said, letting her shoulder go after one final squeeze, “It could be alright after all.”

“Okay, Renji,” she said. “You go take the tea to your captain. I’ll make his lordship a breakfast to remember us by.”

“There’s the spirit,” Renji said. 

#

At the door to Byakuya’s estate office, Renji paused to knock. He could hear voices—or rather, a voice—as Byakuya issued orders to the replacement steward, Hitoshi. 

“Come in, Renji,” Byakuya said absently. Byakuya was still in his sleeping yukata, but he must have decided he’d feel more official with the kenseikan, since he’d taken the time to put them in. Returning his attention to the prostrate steward, Byakuya continued, “Send one of the swiftest bodyguards to recall Eishirō and his family from our summer home. Inform him that the remainder of his punishment has been waived in lieu of the current emergency situation. If we have any allies in the family, Eishirō will know who they are.”

The steward’s bowed head dipped deeper. “Yes, my lord.”

Renji stooped to put the tea on the floor beside Byakuya’s low desk. He sat down as quietly as he could. He didn’t even try to sit seiza, despite the intensely formal air in the office. It was going to be a long stretch of hours working everything out, so Renji figured he might as well be comfortable.

Byakuya kept up a steady list of things for Hitoshi to prepare and do. Renji listened carefully in case he’d need to enforce anything or remind people, but the stuff they discussed was in a realm that was way out of his league. There was talk of accounts to be sealed and re-routing of funds. It sounded like Byakuya was preparing for a financial siege. But even though Renji knew it was important, it was obtuse and boring as shit. To keep himself from dozing off, Renji fussed over the tea and took his first, serious look at the new steward.

It was impossible to tell anyone’s true age in the Soul Society, but there were streaks of steely gray in Hitoshi’s hair, which he wore loose, in a kind of page-boy bob cut. The cut almost reminded Renji of Yumichika’s. Except where it looked good on Yumichika, it seemed out of place on Hitoshi, almost as if he were vainly trying to copy a younger man’s style. It was especially noticeable given how grizzled and worn Hitoshi’s features were. Someone had flattened Hitoshi’s nose at some point in his life, and his whole face seemed… dented in places, like maybe he’d spent his youth as a boxer or a brawler.

Hitoshi did not automatically look like the type to be playing butler to the most powerful noble family in all the Seireitei. But, Renji was determined not to do to this guy what most people did to him: make some kind of snap judgement about his abilities based on his looks. If Eishirō recommended the guy, then he was good.

All the same, Hitoshi looked pretty panicked, Renji thought. He seemed as relieved as Renji when Byakuya finally stopped issuing orders and said, “I have most of it written here, as well,” Byakuya held out a sheet of parchment for Hitoshi. “Please look it over carefully. If you have any questions, I would prefer you ask them as soon as possible. I can’t know when I will be called to leave.”

Trembling hands grasped the paper. “Yes, my lord.”

Renji handed Byakuya a bowl of tea he had at the ready. “Breakfast is coming,” he said. “I told Miki about the situation. I thought maybe it’d be better if the staff knew what was coming and knew that you had a plan. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine.” Byakuya said, taking a sip of tea almost unthinkingly. He pulled another sheet of paper from the pile in front of him. “I’ve made several copies of my letter of intent to appoint Rukia the heir’s regent. Couriers will deliver the ones that need to go to my family’s representatives, but I’d like you to take the one to Rukia. Also, please personally deliver one to Central 46 to hold in reserve, in case there is a conflict. I don’t think my family would go to war over this, but the Gotei should be aware of the possibility.”

“You serious?” Renji asked. Taking the copies, he tucked them into the inside pocket of his shitagi. “You think your clan would literally fight Rukia’s appointment? Like with private armies?”

Byakuya took a sip of the tea. He glanced at the bowl and nodded, as though pleased at its flavor or strength. Then he sighed, “It would be severe even for them, but if they know that the Thirteen Court Guards stand ready to defend my choice of regent, it will be a double deterrent.”

“Ugh,” Renji grunted. “I fucking hope so.” The Kuchikis already hated him. The last thing Renji wanted to have to do was be personally responsible for taking out non-shinigami soldiers. It would be a fucking slaughter.

“Everything seems clear enough,” Hitoshi said meekly, though Renji thought he detected a note of growing confidence. “Shall I begin, my lord?”

“Yes, please do,” Byakuya said.

With a lot of bows, Hitoshi made his way out. 

When the door slid shut and his stocking feet pattered down the hall, Byakuya closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I wish Eishirō were here. I worry that Hitoshi isn’t up for the job.”

“Yeah, well, this is kind of above and beyond for a substitute. But some substitutes really step up,” Renji said, thinking of Ichigo. Taking a sip of his own tea, he continued: “But, I’m pretty sure the top item on Hitoshi’s personal list is get Eishirō back here, pronto.”

Byakuya’s eyes were downcast and his lips were thin and hard. If it wasn’t for the ripple on the surface of the tea, Renji wouldn’t be sure Byakuya was even breathing, he sat so still.

“You got to relax a little, Taicho,” Renji said. “Eishirō will get here in plenty of time. Word isn’t going to spread that fast. I figure your family won’t hear of your arrest for days yet. Even the most ambitious person isn’t going to be able to organize any kind of strategic attack for days after that, even. You’ve got a week’s head start, easy.”

Byakuya’s gray eyes came up. It was almost imperceptible, but Renji could feel Byakuya relaxing slightly, his face smoothing from stony hard to not-quite-as-hard-as-that. “Yes, you’re right, of course.”

“I know it ain’t your style to lean on us, but you only have to call me or Rukia if you think of something you should’ve done or whatever. I mean, even in the Maggot’s Nest, they let a guy have visitors when it’s business, you know?”

“Yes, I visited your brother there,” Byakuya said. His voice sounded hollow at the memory.

Renji flinched at his own thoughtlessness. He shouldn’t have gone right to the worst option. Cripes, the Maggot’s Nest was every shinigami’s worst nightmare.“I don’t think they’d send you there,” Renji said, trying to reassure himself more than anything. “To the Maggot’s Nest, I mean. This offense isn’t worth taking Senbonzakura. Anyways, if Hisagi is to be believed, everybody is doing their subordinate. No way is Yamamoto going to go super hard-ass on you.”

“Unless, of course, he wishes to make an example of us,” Byakuya said, taking another sip of tea. “He could use this opportunity to remind people that there are consequences to flagrant violations of the fraternization policy.”

“I’m pretty sure Soutaicho’s own lieutenant has a serious hard on for him.”

“Renji!” Byakuya admonished, but a little ghost of a smile flickered through his face. 

“I’m just saying,” Renji said. “Anyways, wasn’t the deal you brokered based on the whole idea that you were going to keep on fraternizing after you did your time? If the Head Captain was going to make a statement, it kind of seems like a weird one: ‘If you're willing to do the time, feel free to do the crime?’ I dunno. Could backfire. I could see people signing up preemptively, so they could get a free fuck pass.”

Byakuya let out a breath. “No one would do that, Renji.”

“I think you’re underestimating the depravity of the Eleventh, Taicho,” Renji said.

Byakuya finally gave into a real, if brief, smile. But, his eyes were still downcast as he said, “I’ll miss you terribly; do you know that?”

“Oi, oi, oi, don’t start talking like that yet,” Renji said. He set down his bowl, intending to take Byakuya’s hands in his. He stopped, thinking that they didn’t want to be busted holding hands by someone, but then he thought, fuck it, and grabbed them. “It could still end up just being house arrest, and we had fun the last time I was under house arrest, remember? Confined to quarters. Heh, yours.”

“Oh, Renji, I might deserve this a little,” Byakuya admitted with a shake of his head. 

Renji smiled kindly. He kissed Byakuya’s knuckles before letting them go. Refilling Byakuya’s tea bowl, he said, “Yeah, you know, I hate to say it, but this might do some good for morale inside the Division, anyway. Now that people know about us and all… well, seeing you step up? Yeah, it could be just the thing to make things all right.”

“Yes, I think so as well.” Byakuya picked up his tea, “That’s why I’m determined to see it through.”

There was a knock on the door that made them both jump—actually, Renji leaped to his feet, his hand on Zabimaru; Byakuya flinched slightly, his tea bowl clinking as he set it down sharply. 

“Breakfast, m’lord,” came Aio’s voice.

Renji felt both sheepish and deeply relieved it was only her. He sat back down, as Byakuya indicated that Aio should come in. “You can not defend me from arrest,” Byakuya said, as Renji adjusted Zabimaru to sit comfortably. “I will not have you going back to the Ninth, or worse to the First,for insubordination again.”

Renji wanted to complain it was only instinct that had his hand on his zanpakutō, but Byakuya wouldn’t appreciate either the backtalk or the sentiment right now. “Hai, Taicho,” he said dutifully.

“In fact, it may be best if you’re not here,” Byakuya said. “It will be difficult enough for me to see this through, particularly if I am sent away. After breakfast, I want you on your way to deliver the letters of intent.”

A petulant whine escaped Renji’s mouth before he could stop it. He hated the idea of being sent away when Byakuya was facing something so serious, but Byakuya might have a point. Even mustering every ounce of discipline he had, it was going to be tough to watch soldiers taking Byakuya away and do nothing to stop them. Plus, it was going to be tough on Byakuya, and, even if Renji did manage to stand there, he wasn’t going to be doing it stoically. Every emotion would be showing on his face. Every damn one. He could see how that might be heartbreaking for Byakuya, on top of everything else.

“Yeah, alright,” Renji grumped in agreement Aio set out trays around them, her eyes wide, clearly curious. Renji gave her a little smile and nod. “I don’t think Rukia will be awake for hours yet, but I can always make the trek out to Central first. Someone is always on duty over there.”

“Yes, my thinking exactly,” Byakuya said. 

Aio bowed her way out and Byakuya said thanks over the food. Renji was not surprised to see the mackerel. It was grilled and smelled a little peppery, like maybe Miki had marinated it in something or added a spicy sauce. Clearly, the hot spiciness was for Byakuya. But, Renji had plenty of other things he could eat. There was rice and pickled cucumbers as well as a very pretty miso soup with steamed open clams. 

Tasting the fish, Byakuya frowned. “It’s too hot for you. I’ll have it sent back.”

“No, don’t you dare,” Renji said quickly, “Miki made that specifically for you. She wanted you to miss her cooking.”

Byakuya’s mouth opened and, before he could hide it, his expression flashed briefly through a series of emotions: shock, grief, and, finally, gratitude. “You will thank her for me,” Byakuya said, managing to sound all lordly and emotionless again.

“Of course,” Renji said, spooning himself a large portion of the soup. The reality of Byakuya’s potential absence started to gnaw at him. Days without their morning routine was going to be hard, what if it was months? 

Renji had to stop and remind himself that things could be worse. Even if the Old Man threw the book at Byakuya for some reason and sent him off to the Maggot’s Nest for a several month stretch, no one was talking about anyone losing their commission or execution. They would survive this. Ultimately, that was the only thing that mattered. 

“You’ve been behind bars,” Byakuya said quietly. “What’s it like?”

Renji managed not to point out that his longest stretch was here, at the Sixth, and entirely down to Byakuya’s orders. “Well, I spent most of my time recovering from injury. It was different for me because my subordinates were pretty fucking ticked off with…”

“No, I meant when you were in the Rukongai. When you were tattooed.”

Renji had been lifting a spoonful of soup to his mouth and his hand hung there, suspended in shock for a long moment. Then he dropped it with a slam. “Who told you about that? Nobody knows about that. Not even Rukia.”

“Your tattooist knows about it,” Byakuya said. “She said her master was the one who did much of your early work, including the first punishment bands.”

Renji crossed his arms in front of his chest, hands covering the circles that went all the way around his arms, just above his elbows. Not that they were visible under his uniform, but the move to conceal them was subconscious. The instant he noticed himself doing it, he shook himself out. “That’s a secret. That can’t get out, you know. Gotei doesn’t want a thief for a lieutenant.”

“Theft? Was that your crime? I would have thought such a punishment would be for something more substantial.”

“Oh, so you didn’t know that part? Great,” Renji said ruefully. “Yeah, it was for theft. I got caught stealing something that belonged to a tea house.”

“To a tea house? But that would be….” Byakuya’s face paled. “Oh, I see.” He chewed his fish thoughtfully for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes, legal recourse is difficult in such situations. Buying out a contract was expensive, even for me. Did she escape or did you lose everything in the bargain?” 

Okay, so Byakuya still didn’t know who Renji had gone after. That was a relief. Not that Renji would give a toss if Byakuya knew, but Rukia might. “Yeah, she got away. Couple of my friends weren’t so lucky. They died because we were way outclassed by those Mafiosos. It was butchering.”

Byakuya nodded. “I don’t understand why you kept this from me, particularly when we were discussing your objections to hiring a teahouse boy. I would have understood.”

‘Yeah, well, I like my ink,” Renji explained. “I don’t want anyone looking at it different, because they suddenly got this notion it wasn’t my choice. I don’t need pity. Especially about my tats. I’d’ve done it eventually, I just would’ve had only tiger stripes. Anyway, the old hiroishi done good. No one can tell I didn’t mean ‘em this way from the start.”

“No, absolutely. They’re flawless,” Byakuya said. “I never saw the similarity to the criminal tattoos until it was explained to me.”

Renji grunted. “Great.”

“It’s not like that,” Byakuya insisted. “What I am saying is that I don’t see it. Not even once I knew their origins was the beauty of them diminished.”

“Well, that’s something,” Renji said with a half-hearted smile.

Byakuya gave him a little smile in return. They went back to their breakfast for a moment, before Byakuya said, “But you must have spent time in confinement. What was it like?”

“Ah, Rukongai holding pens aren’t going to be anything like where you’re going,” Renji said. Though truthfully, his experience wasn’t that far removed from where they’d first seen Seichi, so he said, “Remember that barracks where Seichi was held at first? It was kind of like that. Lots of guys waiting on punishment, all milling around, causing what trouble they could in the meantime. Bedbugs. Fleas. Bullies. But, with a lot fewer inmates because none of us were there for very long. Rukongai ain’t set up for prisons; ain’t no one with power enough to run ‘em for longer than short stints like that. Ironically, if you go down hard, you get shipped here--inside the Seireitei--or just executed on the spot. So, most got their mark and their beating and were on their way in a matter of days. Sometimes people were there only for hours, if the crime was minor and the tattoist was on hand. I mean, I would have been dead except I lucked out and someone had called the constables, who, in turn, flagged down a patrol of shinigami, who, I guess felt like sticking it to these yakuza for some reason.”

“Probably your lady friend was the one who called for help,” Byakuya mused around a mouthful of rice.

Rukia? Of course, it probably had been her that had alerted the cops. She’d probably been hoping they’d have gotten there in time to save everyone’s lives. Instead, it was only him left when they finally busted in. They’d argued over his fate. The shinigami didn’t seem all that concerned to protect Renji’s life. They’d been there on some other mission and felt very put out to have to bust up some local squabble. Renji had the constable to thank for his life. The woman had been outraged that the shinigami could stand there in their uniforms and not give a single fuck beyond enjoying screwing up the business of some yakuza thugs… and helping themselves to some of the spoils. 

It’d been Renji’s first sense that maybe this dream of Rukia’s might have a dark side.

Sometimes Renji wondered if that was what had sucked the joy from her first Academy days--finding out what it really meant to be a shinigami. 

He always blamed himself when he found out she hadn’t made the elite group. He knew she’d expended a lot of energy carrying them both through so many district barriers. Those first few had been rough--the kidō they needed to pass through was stronger the further out you were, and Renji had been injured, recovering from the beating. He had only so much extra reiatsu to spare to buffer the effects. She’d had to have the strength to protect them both. She was so sure they were going to a better place; so convinced the life of a shinigami had none of the ugly of life in Inuzuri.

And yet, right away, they’d been barked at.

She’d held her head high, sure it would stop once they were officially cadets. 

Yeah, not so much.

“Are you still in contact with her?” Byakuya asked, his voice cutting through Renji’s reverie.

“Who?”

“Your teahouse friend,” Byakuya said. “I imagine you had to abandon her when you went to Academy. But given the trouble you went through to secure her freedom, I find it surprising I don’t even know her name, that you never speak of her.”

When their eyes met, Renji was sure the answer was written in his face. Even if Byakuya couldn’t guess, Renji would have to out-and-out lie to keep Rukia’s secret. And she’d never asked him to. Hell, they never spoke of it at all, afterwards. Not in the whole year and a half it took them to make their way to the Academy gates. “I never abandoned her. I let her go a couple of times--more than I ever should’ve, but I always followed after as soon as I could.”

Byakuya’s eyes widened. He breathed: “Rukia?”

He nodded. Byakuya went white as a sheet this time. Renji wanted to reassure Byakuya that no one had abused Rukia when she was in the hands of those whoremongers, but… well, this was the precise reason they never talked about it. He didn’t want to know, because he was pigheaded enough to think he ought to go back and stove some heads in, if they had. Never mind Rukia had kidō even then, and could’ve blasted anyone who tried it on. Knowing would have made him all-protective and pitying and, frankly, she deserved better than that from him, either way. As always, she showed him how to behave by not making fuss over his injuries and pretending not to notice the ink. The only thing she ever did was steal him a longer-sleeved yukata just before they made the gates. 

Anyway, the way Renji had it figured, Byakuya was the last person who should be getting upset over the shit that went down in brothels. He owned four of them. Plus, he’d met Hisana at one. But, it wouldn’t surprise Renji in the least if Byakuya figured it was a matter of class--that the only place rough stuff went down was further out.

“I told you, didn’t I, that the first day I met her, Rukia knocked this guy down who was at least twice her size? Them monks taught her the rad moves. She was a scrappy-ass fighter, always has been,” Renji pointed out to Byakuya’s dark, brooding silence. “She had strong kidō, too. Like now.”

Byakuya set down his chopsticks. He stood up, clearly finished with this meal and their conversation. “When I return from confinement, the first order of business will be to finally divest the Kuchiki from their tea houses.”

Renji scrambled to his feet, expecting to be dismissed, but Byakuya stood there a moment. His reiatsu roiled with unspoken words. Finally, he announced, “I will trust you to guard the Division as you have always cared for my pride.”

It was an awkward sort of… acknowledgment of Renji’s relationship with Rukia, but very Byakuya in its assumption that Renji was somehow doing it for him, before he even knew Byakuya, but Renji got the point. He could sense what Byakuya was trying to say. “I got your back, Taicho.”

Byakuya’s reiatsu caressed Renji’s, slowly, carefully, as if trying to commit the shape of his soul to memory. “Yes, you always have.”

“And always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's Pride Festival here in Minnesota and, of course, Americans have yesterday's SCOTUS ruling to celebrate. Happy! Happy! (GAY, even. Ha.)
> 
> And thanks to Josey for her usual typo-ing and support.


End file.
